By myself

      For a while, I had been looking forward to being alone, just spending time with myself and doing this: writing about what I feel.

    Contrary to how others may see me,  I am a very private person, sensitive and emotional, beyond my light and bubbly demeanor. No violent reactions please, hehe. Former classmates, colleagues, and acquaintances must be surprised at this.  At a glance, this is JUANA: bibo, makulit, makwento, ma-joke, miss congeniality, bolera….

    But my friends, if they had ever tried analyzing me somehow, must have known this side of me. As much as I want to just be free of my burdens and share it with them, I just can’t. I guess that’s the way I am. Most of the time, I just get to share these things when a friend gets in the same situation or has a very similar dilemma.

    And that’s why I love writing. It’s my outburst to God. Strong as I may seem, at times I find myself helpless. It is when I put my feelings into words that I realize how real they are, then I get afraid of the things that may or may not come. When I write, I open up to God without pretensions. I just allow myself  to sink in my weakness… and then be saved by God’s kindness.

   They say that writing is a passion and that good writing is a gift. But gifted or not, I will write. This has been my outlet. It keeps me from going accross the border. It embraces my overflows, things that I can’t contain anymore, things that break me into pieces. And most importantly, it unveils My Reality to ME.